The Solar Boy's Prodigy
by Phwemagt
Summary: Shawn is a normal freakish kid. Until a blackout during a game session drives him to believe that he is The Solar Boy.


The Solar Boy's Prodigy  
  
Disclaimer: Uh, okay. I don't own the characters from Boktai, mm'kay? Yeah, just thought I'd tell ya. Mm'kay, bye.  
  
This story is about a boy named...I dunno...Herman. No, scratch that, Herman sounds too stupid. Let's make that name Shawn. Yeah, that doesn't sound too bad. Now, Shawn is the typical "video games are my life" gamer. The bad kind. You remember that guy who killed himself over something that happened to his character in EverQuest? Well, Shawn is a copy of EverQuest away from being that guy. Now, here's the problem. Taking the games away does not work. Last time that was attempted, he almost jumped off the fourth story of a retirement home his grandmother was staying at. This was very unpleasant for everyone. So, the boy's parents had decided to ease him out of his addiction. Boktai seemed like the answer. They could lure their son outside, and after seeing what's out there, he might decide that he liked the outside world, and stay out. Well, Shawn checked online, and found that putting the GameBoy next to a plasma ball (You know what I mean, right?), he could max out the energy bar without having to go under the gaze of the deadly sun. So, that had only made him addicted to the game.  
  
At the time this story is taking place, Shawn is sitting in his room, with his GameBoy next to the plasma ball. He was using an A/C adapter to power the GameBoy, since it's not like he'd go outside anyway. He has just killed...The snake lady...What's her name? Damn it, I know this! Ah, screw it. Anyway, he has just beaten her snake ass up, and is now dragging her coffin out to the Pile Driver. He has not saved since entering Sol City.  
  
Elsewhere in the house, the insane boy's parents are hanging Christmas lights around the living room, because...Well, do you need an excuse to hang up Christmas lights? They look cool. So, anyway, they hang the lights up, and then decide they want some music. So they plug the stereo into the outlet. Then they decide that coffee would really hit the spot, so they hooked up the coffee maker. Then Juan, the father/husband/guy/more prominent masculine figure of the house decides he'd prefer a glass of coffee butter. Coffee butter is when you put a stick of butter and a bag of coffee beans in a blender, then add warm milk to it. I'm making this up off the top of my head, so I personally can't tell you exactly how bad it tastes, but if one of you readers would care to give this a try, I would like to know of your findings.  
  
So, he plugs the blender into the socket too. After pouring in his nauseating ingredients, He turns the blender to Grate. Well, that's taking too long, so he moves it up to Blend. Then Shred. Then Grind. Then Liquefy. Then Ice Crush. Then he realized that Ice Crush was actually the weakest setting on the blender, and changed it back Liquefy. Frustrated with the speed at which his coffee beans were turning themselves into (questionably) delicious butter, He reached for the switch on the back that you had to use a combination lock to open the door to. The switch was marked Beat Your Blender Contents To Death With a Stick, Then Use A Rock To Grind Them Into A Fine Powder Then Cut Them Down Some More. As you would think from the name, this requires a good deal of electricity.  
  
Back to Shawn. He has gotten the snake lady down to a tiny bit of her health. She was almost done for.  
  
Juan flipped the switch. The blender shook for a minute, then stopped. A second later, every light in the house went out.  
  
Not to mention Shawn's GameBoy.  
  
Speechless, Shawn stared at the now vacant screen. He allowed his head to fall onto his desk. Abruptly, he sits up. No. His adventure wasn't over. Not yet. Django had fought to bring the snake lady to her near- death, and he was going to finish it for him.  
  
"Now, honestly. That was such a stupid idea." Lauren said, scowling. "True...But I got my coffee butter!" Juan lifted the glass to his mouth and starting chugging the horrid (in theory, that is) liquid. Loud footsteps. Then, a door swings open. Shawn stands there, looking like a, as they say in France, ****ing idiot.  
  
Around his head was an old sweatband which he had drawn two circles on. He had a strip of toilet paper draped over his neck. He had glued some discolored patches onto his shirt, and his shorts were about 5 times as wide as his legs. He whispered in a raspy voice "The sun shall rise again." With that, he rushed outside, leaving his parents to wonder what the hell their son was doing.  
  
Shawn had attached the lens off of a magnifying glass on the top of a toy gun, and written Gun Del Sol on the side. He could only hope there was enough sunlight to charge the battery. Nervously, he lifted the weapon above his head and shouted "Taiyoh!" A surprising fat neighbor felt it necessary to point at him and laugh. "Oh no! I've already been seen! By a golem, no less!" Frightened and slightly confused, he ran under a car to hide. The hideous blob of a man gave him a questioning look, then slithered inside to have his lunch of a stick of butter. "Thank the sun..." Shawn muttered, slowly crawling out of his hiding place under the car. "I have to be more careful."  
  
In as covert a manner as someone wearing a toilet paper scarf can manage, he struggled through some bushes and into a neighboring yard. What he saw shocked him. "Otenko!" He rushed over to the sunflower planted into the ground. "I thought you were killed by that vile snake woman!" No response. "Hey...When did you get so tall?" He was eyeing the four feet Otenko had grown since Shawn had last seen him. "It looks good on you. C'mon, let's go." Hastily ripping the sunflower out of the ground, he rushed out of the yard and took a new spot behind a tree. "Alright, here's what we do. We head into that cave over there, and slay all of the undead inside. Any objections?" A pause. "Good. Alright, let's move." He surveyed the land around him, and after he was entirely sure no one was watching, made a break for it.  
  
Back in Shawn's house, his parents were calling the police. "Hello? This is Lauren Shmiggidyquetzal. Yes, my son has just put on very weird clothes and rushed outside murmuring strange things." The man on the other end said something back. "No no no, you don't understand. My son Shawn is very...eccentric. He might just flip out and do something extremely insane. Alright. Uh-uh. Okay, got it. Bye." She hung up, then walked into the living room and took a seat next to her husband. "They said that he probably wouldn't commit a crime, and that he was just going to a meeting with his cult." She forced a laugh, then paused. "Do you think he'd join a cult?" "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say." Dismissed Juan distractedly.  
  
With all the sense of Django himself, Shawn wandered into the house through the open front door. He saw two sets of stairs. One leading up, the other down. "Since the lower floor is farther from the sun, there'll probably be more undead stuff." Shawn reasoned as he ascended the...up...going...stairs. Suddenly, he got that look in his eye. Y'know, you're all squinting, and looking shifty. Yeah, that's it. He was doing that. "Which is probably just what they want me to think!" Then he made to leap down the stairs and onto the other stairs. But, like Django, he can't jump. Regardless, he made it down the staircase. On his back. And he made it down the other staircase! On his face.  
  
Of course, the pains of mortals mean nothing to the (duhduhduh DUH) Solar Boy! So he got on his feet, wiped off the blood, and cracked his broken nose back into place. It was at this point that he noticed he wasn't alone. Across the room, a large boy was picking on a little girl. Now, here's how we're going to look at where Shawn is on the crazy scale (scale goes from 1-10). A normal person (with a scale rating of one) would look at the kids and then stop caring about whatever it is they're doing. If the person who saw them was a mother, (crazy rating of three) she would probably laugh, and say something about how all kids are the same. Then probably tell a story about her own kids doing crap like this. If the person was your average "Every damn thing is a bad influence to our children" soccer mom, (crazy rating of six) She would probably tell the kid's parents, then act mortified when they just waved it off. Or if she was a bit more aggressive, she'd pull the kids apart and give them a lecture/puppet show about why you shouldn't hurt people. Now, normally, Shawn is a one. but now that he thinks he's a video game character, he's a sixteen. Let's find out why.  
  
'That girl...I recognize her. That's the receptionist from the sun bank! I've gotta help her.' He crept out and moved a bit closer to the children. Gun at the ready, he slowly crouched down. Aim, and...fire. Fire. I said fire. Hey! You can shoot now! Peg him in the back! But Shawn couldn't. His gun wasn't working right. It wasn't shooting sunlight. It was just making weird sound effects!  
  
Guess who else noticed the sound effects?  
  
Yup, the kids.  
  
Slowly, the boy turned around. The couch. It was coming from behind the couch. He walked deliberately, shaking with every step.  
  
Shawn was equally scared, if not more so. The gun didn't work. It was a waste of metal, glass, plastic, and Elmer's Glue. Well, there was one thing left to do. He took a deep breath, and WHAM! Shawn was on the boy like a leech on crack, except he wasn't sucking blood, but punching him in the face. After beating him substantially, he dragged him outside, leaving the little girl to wonder what this crazy man is doing to her brother. Once outside, Shawn starting screaming nonsense, while stepping on the child's throat. "Yeah! Can you take it?! It's the power of the sun, bitch! Power of the sun!" After he had done enough damage to the "monster", he ran inside to tend to the girl.  
  
"Miss, are you alright?" "What did you do to my brother?" "Brother? Oh, poor thing. You have Stockholm Syndrome. You must fight it! YOU...MUST...FIGHT IT!" He grabbed her hand. "C'mon. If we're quick, we might be able to avoid the other ghouls." "What are you doing?! Let go of me!" "Shh! Keep it down!" "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!" Abruptly, two people, I assume the parents, rushed down and saw the weird kid wearing stupid clothes and trying to kidnap their daughter, probably so that he could sell her to a street gang so that they could have child stew for supper.  
  
Damn. The girl was a decoy! She had called for reinforcements. Okay, wait for it...wait for it...GO! He rushed over to the door, grabbed Otenko (who had been waiting by the entrance) and sprinted out. The parents didn't think to chase him. Probably because they were busy making sure that their daughter didn't have any forks stuck in her, or any "$X a pound" tags.  
  
"I mean, maybe that's why he never talked! He was plotting how he and his cult buddies would kidnap a baby to sacrifice! Oh, my poor son is trying to kill infants!" Juan, ignoring his wife's psycho babble as best as he could, stared at the T.V., concentrating on the image. He was looking slightly agitated.  
  
"Whoo! That was close." Shawn and 'Otenko' were two blocks away, standing under a shady tree. Shady? Oh no! Shawn, the Boks! THE BOKS! RUN! "AAH!" Yelled Shawn, panicking over what the author had said. He dove into the warming sunlight and heaved a sigh of relief. An ugly kid with blue hair pointed at him and laughed. "Freak!" He yelled as hypocritically as humanly possible. Shawn opened his eyes wide. "Sabata! I knew you'd show your face! Let's end this!"  
  
The blue-headed kid (hereafter referred to as Henk) blinked. "Uh...What?" "You heard me! Let's go!" Shawn charged at the strange child. This fierce attack caught Henk off guard. Not so off guard, however, that he couldn't kick Shawn in the stomach once he was close enough. And that's what he did. Smirking, he looked at the flower the kid was holding. Pansy. Why the hell was he carrying this thing with him? Henk stomped on Otenko's head, then walked off, feeling extremely satisfied with himself.  
  
That bastard Sabata...He had destroyed the manifestation of Otenko. Well, he wasn't going to get away with that. He saw the dark boy stop to get a drink out of a soda machine. Perfect. Shawn crept up behind him. "You thought you got him. You thought you had won, didn't you?" Sabata turned around, scowling. "Are you still here?" Shawn ignored this comment. "Well you didn't win. You didn't."  
  
Henk was surprised to see this kid still holding on to the flower. The strange child glared at him. "You can't kill him, Sabata! YOU CAN'T KILL THE SPIRIT OF THE SUN!" Henk opened his eyes wide. This guy was crazy! This is too dangerous. He was going to have to run for it. He took off towards his house. "Where you going, Sabata?! Ya leaving already?!" With that, he sprinted after the blue-haired kid, practically foaming at the mouth with anger.  
  
Back at the Shmiggidyquetzal residence, the grieving has not stopped. "I mean, think of how many chickens die each year because of cult rituals!" Lauren continued ranting. Juan had grown bored with T.V., and was now meditating on the thought of coffee butter.  
  
"Heh...Showed him." Shawn was very pleased with himself after scaring that kid away. Time to stock up on equipment for his next excursion. He wandered into a nearby grocery store, and into the produce section. "Bananas...Speed nuts...Tiptoe nuts...This is a gold mine!" He gathered as much fruit as he could, then rushed up to the checkout and dumped it all on the conveyor belt. The woman working the register eyed him suspiciously, then went ahead and rung everything up. "That comes to a total of...Seven dollars and twenty-six cents." In response, Shawn reached into his pocket and removed a quarter. "Here's a silver coin I pulled out of a dungeon. It should be enough." She looked at the coin. "Sir, I need the full amount." "What?! I risked my life for this, and you say it's not enough?! I will not stand this insolence!" With that, he stormed out, carrying his merchandise in his arms.  
  
The Solar Boy had happened upon a store called Coffins Is Us. He wandered in out of sheer boredom. He surveyed the different caskets until one in the corner caught his eye. It was shaped like the ones vampires sleep in. You know, it's an irregular hexagonish thing? "This belongs to him...The Count of Ground-soaking Blood! I must purify this immortal beast." He attached a chain to the corpse box and started dragging it. Unfortunately, it was so heavy that he could barely move it. He remembered the fruits he had purchased at the store. He pulled a banana out of his pocket, peeled it, and took a bite. Immediately, he grabbed the chain, and started pulling the coffin. In fact, he was pulling it so fast that he was covering more ground then he would be if he ran. I know what you're wondering. How the hell is this possible? It's a placebo type thing. Shawn believes he can move it faster after eating a banana, therefore, he can. Spooky, yes? Well, since a teenage boy dragging a coffin across the ground is kind of hard to miss, the man behind the counter saw him. "Hey, kid! Whaddaya think you're doing?" Shawn froze. He had been spotted again! Well, no time for confrontation. He pulled a lemon out of his pocket and took a bite. He made a face showing just how unpleasant this experience was for him. He let go of the coffin and ran. The counter guy slowly reached for the phone.  
  
And now we check on the parents again. "And virgins! Don't even get me started on how many young virgins are killed as a result of being involved in cults!" Juan had had it. This was making his wife anxious. And when she was anxious, he was anxious, because she would complain until everyone within the sound of her voice was ready to kill her. "That's it!" he screamed, jumping up from his seat. "I'm going to find our son and put an end to this foolishness!" He grabbed his coat and stomped out the door.  
  
Shawn, meanwhile, was terrorizing a group of small children. He had grabbed one little boy, and the others had fled. He was holding a jar out angrily. "Release it! I need a sample of klorofolun to study!" He shook the bottle in the kid's face. "SON!" He turned to see The Count of Ground-soaking Blood screaming at him. He released his grip on the child, as it's presence would ruin the dramatic effect of the moment. "So, Count. You've returned." He looked up. "In the middle of the day and in open sunlight, no less. You've gotten arrogant." He smirked. "Allow me to put you in your place!" He jumped at his father, and went straight for the throat. But being that this is a fight between a scrawny kid and a full grown man, he was punched right in the face. He had one eye closed , because the bruise was swelling over it. Well, hand to hand combat wasn't going to do. He'd have to retreat, and then find a stake, or some garlic, or whatnot.  
  
He ran, turned a corner, and saw two policemen, along with another non- police guy. "That's him over there!" Said the non-police guy. "The one who tried to steal the finest model we had in stock!" The two offciers ran at Shawn. He turned back and ran down another road. There, he was met with more police. "That's him. He looks just like the sketch! Stop, produce thief!" Not good for Shawn. He went down yet another path. This time, he saw the ghouls from the cave he was in. "Daddy, there's that man again!" Said the decoy. Shawn knew that this could not end well, and so, he ran back. But he was trapped. Horrible monsters on all sides. Him without a working firearm. There was no hope left. He sank to the ground, defeated.  
  
Shawn had soon returned to his normal self, thanks to plenty of rest and several beatings. Seeking to place blame for his actions elsewhere, Shawn sued Konami of America, Konami of Japan, and Konami of Northern Milwaukee for making a game that drove him insane. However, the court found him guilty instead, claiming he could not tell the difference between reality and fiction. He was sentenced to six months of intensive mental training.  
  
The End 


End file.
